


dizzy dizzy

by dinoburger



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Webseries)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Clocks, Drunkenness, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 00:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11909742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinoburger/pseuds/dinoburger
Summary: a sleepy boy and a history teacher go wandering around in the evening





	dizzy dizzy

**Author's Note:**

> if I don't post this here and now I probably never will
> 
> I'm not usually so big on the ol' human AUs but y'know sometimes when you're inspired, you're inspired.
> 
> (... no this isn't red-stripe anime Tony this is chubby moustache Tony)

The evening was still early, the sky barely hinting at stars. A pair of expensive red shoes stumbled out dizzy patterns across the brickwork beside a pair of tattered red sneakers.

The old, quiet street with tall black lampposts was lit up in loud, red-faced laughter. They staggered, with an arm over each other’s shoulders, a woozy, wobbling, four-legged animal.

The louder, taller, older of the two was dressed smart and sharp. Tony up-ended the bottle against his mustachioed lip before sighing, and belting out another verse of off-key song.

The smaller, sleepier boy watched him, a goofy smiled pasted on his freckled face. They were dressed in a star patterned nightshirt and sweatpants, as if they were either just getting out of bed or just getting in.   
Their hazel eyes sparkled, never having seen the history teacher in such high spirits.

That tense man who was always scolding them for their tardiness now led them on an aimless route through backstreets and cobblestone roads.  
He’d glimpsed this careless side of Tony before. At casual gatherings for the staff at the school, the moment a bottle of more expensive alcohol went into circulation Tony would start to loosen up.

As a very refined gentleman with very refined tastes, that was the only thing that would sway him into temptation. Sometimes, all it took was an expensive-looking bottle, the contents were irrelevant.

Maybe it was an unfair little trick to play, but the boy had no ill intentions for the other. This wasn’t about making the history teacher embarrassed, or to lead him astray.

In fact, they very much admired Tony. His sternness and fussiness was his own way of showing concern, nothing to be held against him. This had more to do with a personal curiosity.

It had more to do with a teacher’s evening where Tony had abandoned all shame and taken them into his arms in a clumsy, senseless dance. It was the man who drew them in close, whose breathy chuckle crawled down their spine, whose wet lips whispered to them. An orderly man unravelled into a sleazy mess.

Of course, this wasn’t quite like it was back then. No less, there was a fascinating new energy with which Tony’s company presented itself.

The aged shop windows were still spilling out light and colour onto the street, fogged at the edges and held together with ornate metal.

As Tony babbled something out of a history lesson, the sleepy boy’s gaze went wandering into the buildings they passed. Then they stopped.

“Look, in here!” Tony let the boy drag them away from the pavement and through a heavy, wooden door frame. 

The antique store had that mustiness of the assortment of discoloured objects it held. Cabinets filled with porcelain figures, surfaces cluttered with clockwork toys and bits and pieces. Shelves displaying glassware with a variety of oranges and blues and greens, their sides grooved into spirals and swoops.

The change of atmosphere was momentarily disorientating, the walls providing a more muffled quality to the air, making the man conscious of his volume and putting him into a gaping silence.

The other, however, seemed intent on taking him further into the shop. Apart from an interesting set of lamps that caught them, they had their attention fixed on something else.

While they still felt there were things to be learned about Tony, they did know one thing: he had an unshakeable fixation with clocks. Tony kept at least three wristwatches on his person at all times, and always made sure that the clocks at the school were set to the correct time. Which is why, seeing the wall covered in round faces and swinging pendulums, they couldn’t resist.

A maze of antique furniture had obscured this from Tony’s sight. The view hit him with full force.

Clocks upon clocks upon clocks filled this space. There were alarm clocks and watches and old cuckoos, in round frames, sitting on little stubby legs, set in house-like structures with sloped rooves. Together in near perfect unison.

Tick… tock… tick… tock… tick… tock…

The most ridiculous grin adorned Tony’s face. “Now, this is what I call a real party!” he exclaimed. “What a wonderful gathering of young ladies and gents we have here.”

Tony strolled over to a table full of watches, picking one up to inspect it. “Gorgeous, simply gorgeous…” he kissed the glass cover of its face like one might the hand of a woman. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear.”

The sleepyhead struggled to stifle their giggles as Tony introduced himself to the array of clocks, talking to them individually as he went.

“What a divine pair of hands you have, the work of an expert craftsman.”

“Ah, an older gentleman, I see. You seem to be holding up very well for your age.”

“Quite an energetic fellow, aren’t you? Very enthusiastic ticking…”

He’d stopped to mumble something to a little alarm clock when the younger called, “Hey, what about these guys?” pointing to the clocks on the wall.

Tick… tock… tick… tock… tick… tock…

Tony turned, to where the great wooden cuckoo beckoned him. A sly expression was cast in his dark eyes.

“Well well, who is this handsome devil?” Tony extended his arm to the wall behind, seeming to pin the cuckoo down.

The amount of detail in this piece enticed him, begging to be touched. And he wanted to. More than the clumsy coordination of his gloved hands would allow for.

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

The faint taste of dust, the rich smell of varnished wood, the smooth glide of his tongue over its surface which vibrated with hard, steady beats.

Tick… tock… tick… tock…

Echoed all around, a wall of hearts beating in time. The sensation less muted and organic, a mechanical rhythm pressed to the shell of his ear

Tick… tock…

The dreamer might’ve believed it was something straight out of his own imagination. Except, this was more surreal than even that, the amount of attention Tony was paying to that clock…

They were only recording him because of that. Otherwise, they might start to believe that this was actually part of some bizarre dream they were having. They needed something to prove to themselves this had all happened.

The sleepy boy almost dropped his phone when the old shopkeeper let out a yowl of dismay behind them. Forced out of his daze, he grabbed Tony by the hand and dashed for the door, followed by threats of calling the police.

The fog in Tony’s eyes was still clearing up as they sprinted out into the streets. The dreamer was snickering, grinning from ear to ear, looking far more awake and alert than he’d been for some time. Shaking off his own haze, Tony joined in his giddy giggling as they tore into the night. The sky had turned purple, brilliant stars above yellowed streetlights.

Back through the winding streets, the two disappeared into the dark in a trail of drunken laughter.


End file.
